CHAPTER FIVEAfter spending some time knocking on the door of the house, it was opened by an elderly man with white hair.
When he saw who accompanied them, he said to the agent.
“Oh, there you be Mr. Jones. I’m sorry I kept you waitin’, but we were in the kitchen havin’ trouble with the stove and I didn’t hear the door at first.”
“It’s all right, Brownlow,” the agent replied. “I’ve brought two potential customers who I hope will be taking over the house.”
It certainly was dusty, as the agent had told them, and the windows needed cleaning.
As they went round, Weena could see that it was just the sort of background her brother needed if he was to impress English Society.
The rooms were large and had obviously been well furnished before they became unused and therefore had a run-down app
